Page 16 of The Attercop

“He was in here the other night.”

Declan said nothing.

Mickey continued. “Look, guys, I’m gonna head back to the hospital, but I’ll be in touch soon.”

Declan gave him a big hug, then a kiss on the cheek. “Let us know when Charlie can come in and look at the footage. And keep us in the loop as far as how Angel’s doing, okay?”

“Will do,” Mickey said.

Declan and Charlie finished their drinks. Declan paid up and they headed back to the apartment. The night seemed darker than usual. Declan held onto Charlie’s hand a little tighter than normal.

“Do you think Mickey’s right that something else is going to happen at the bar?” Charlie asked.

“I never rule out Mickey’s gut feelings.”

They walked on for half a block before Charlie said, “You know, if you want to visit Angel in the hospital, I understand.”

“In spite of the dreams, you mean?”

“I never blamed you for having those dreams. You didn’t have to tell me about them, but you did. I just wished I could have been there watching.”

“Pig,” Declan said, putting his arm around Charlie and holding him close. “No, I don’t need to visit Angel yet. But maybe, when he wakes up, we can help Mickey figure out who did this. In the meantime, I better get you home to bed. I want to show you what happened in another dream I had.”

Chapter Nine

Declan stood in front of the old armoire in the apartment and stared at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to get dressed for his father’s retirement party. Declan wasn’t convinced of his choice of clothes. He knew he should dress up, and for him that usually meant his good jeans and a jacket. Charlie had vetoed that. He’d suggested a nice-fitting casual suit.

“It’s not too dressy, but dressy enough to show that you care,” Charlie had explained before giving him a peck on the cheek and a pat on the bum.

“Are you sure it’s okay to pat your boss on the bum?” Declan asked.

“Up here,” Charlie replied, “you’re my boyfriend. You’re only the bossdown in the office. Now hurry up. We don’t want to be late.” Charlie punctuated the sentence with another smack to Declan’s ass.

“Yes, sir,” Declan muttered as Charlie disappeared down the stairs.

Declan stared at two other clothing possibilities.I should wear the tux. That’ll show him.But he knew that Charlie would just send him back up to change, like he was a petulant ten-year-old…which, he knew, was exactly how he was behaving.

After a few minutes of consideration, he chose a pressed pair of khakis, a white shirt and a blue blazer. It looked good. Nice and tidy, and…respectful—without going overboard.

His eyes fell on the selection of ties. When did he accumulate so many? There seemed to be dozens.

He pulled out a handful and held them up to his shirt, trying to figure out which one he’d wear. He narrowed it down to two—the blue one with diagonal gold and red stripes, and the burgundy one with the dizzying dots. He chose the former.

He looked at himself again in the mirror.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding to himself.

Hopefully Charlie will approve.

Declan crinkled his brow. He’d never been one to seek out the approval of others until he’d met Charlie Watts.

He looked around the large attic room,hishome which had becometheirs. He’d invited Charlie to live here as an attempt to prove to both of them that he was capable of maintaining a healthy, personal relationship. After Charlie had moved in, things had begun to change. The weight rack, bench and floor pad which had dominated the room had been shifted off to the side. There were now pictures on the walls, mostly brought into the apartment by Charlie. One had been a gift from his grandmother—a gingham panel that she had cross-stitched with a message proclaiming ‘Home Sweet Home’.

Cross-stitching had never been a part of Declan’s plan as far as his home was concerned, but he was learning that compromises for someone you love were part of the bargain and, God knows, Charlie had made lots of changes for Declan.

He straightened his tie, closed the armoire door and headed downstairs. As he walked into the reception room, Declan glanced to the left into Charlie’s recently finished office. A laser-printed paper sign identifying the name of its new inhabitant was taped on the door. Declan’s heart soared with pride at how far Charlie had come along.

“Well, that looks better,” Charlie called out as he walked out of the washroom. Declan turned. Charlie was wearing awell-fitting dark-green suit, a white shirt, and an emerald tie that accentuated his eyes. He looked handsome and incredibly sexy. Declan grew more in love with him every day they spent together. That was the thing—they were both changing…together…and that felt right.